Ward G
by PKBlackTornado
Summary: TVTropes WMG? More like "Yeah, I wrote it." ...Gensokyo's a mental hospital. Things get worse from there. Fan theories abound and perspective changes nearly every chapter. Watch out.
1. Chapter 1

Blood rolled down the fingers on the damned, down her fingers, down those fingers she should have severed from those hands she should have severed from those arms she would have severed from her body.

If those damned arms weren't a part of her, she thought. If she broke all her teeth, crushed her feet and softened her skull.

Maybe then she wouldn't be here.

Kazami Yuuka was, truly, quite at rest. Indeed, restful thoughts rarely penetrated her mind. Thoughts like these cluttered her head, in fact, cluttered the heads of everyone in Ward G.

Her body's rest made up for that which her mind lost.

The woman stared down at her neatly clipped and filed nails, leaving her eyes to rest on them for what seemed like an eternity. Why had they not been like this that day? Why, only now, did anyone realize she needed help? In fact, why did they not realize it was so simple to stop her?

If you didn't want her to kill, why not just kill her?

Ah, but they couldn't kill her. Can't kill a crazy girl, not even if she murders an innocent. Jeez. Wasn't she supposed to be the mentally incapacitated one here? Why was she the only one that saw it?

In a way, though, it was sort of an overreaction. The only reason she hadn't been offed yet, she assured herself, was Elly protecting her like a dog.

Yuuka couldn't stay mad at poor Elly. She was practically married to her servant.

The patient stopped to glance at the younger woman who sat dutifully next to her. Every single moment of that girl's life was devoted to Yuuka's care and wellbeing.

In a way, she very much admired her servant.

The woman always had a passion for Elly, even since before she'd been committed here. Elly was the one who Yuuka could… Trust, she supposed.

Who was she kidding. Yuuka loved Elly.

How funny. In fact, for a long time, Yuuka had been married. She had certainly never felt this strongly about that man. The only thing that could even compare to Elly's importance in her life was the reason she was in this mess.

Children sort of did have a bad habit of never returning from Yuuka's property, anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

((A/N: Thanks for all the comments, guys! I certainly will continue this, but as anyone acquainted with me knows, I'm not that good at conclusions. Everyone should know I do like to hear suggestions or corrections, so feel free to point those out. Some of these theories were my contributions, so~))

_I feel angel's wings spread behind me_

_Though caught on words said_

_Burnt black by flames of passion_

_Intoxicated, drunken_

_Like a moth_

_Though its wings burning_

_Clinging to life_

_Diving in_

_To feel the tongues of fire graze it_

_Obsession pumping through its veins_

_Once_

_And again_

_Enraptured by the burning soul_

_Of one once loved._

The young woman scrawled out words until she finally came to a halt, running out of space on the page. She then flung the book aside, pen and all, to pause and close her eyes. It seemed everyone here was quite a poet, but it was just because they weren't afraid to show their emotions, wasn't it?

Marisa was the master of the written word.

Though her collection would not be impressive to anyone else but those within the Ward, to her, it was huge. Several of these notebooks, previously filled, were stacked in the corner. Not all were originally hers, and some actual books were mixed in there as well. Patchouli and Satori were much too frail to be chasing her for them, so they were hers now.

She was like Robin Hood. Stealing from the rich to give to the poor.

Except she was the poor and the rich was everyone else.

But it was what She would have done, and that was really all that mattered.

The blonde opened her eyes once again. Yes, it was what She would have done, wasn't it? So Marisa was entirely in the right. Never would Marisa do something She disapproved of. Bringing herself knowledge was truly something Marisa needed to continue doing, so She would approve. It wasn't like She had ever been one to follow rules. Rules were simply another name for oppression. That was what She would say.

Marisa was convinced of that truth.

Smiling, the girl fell backwards from her sitting posture on the bed and let her mind wander once her head hit the mattress. The lights above her were brilliant, fluorescent lights- Marisa had never gotten used to them. It was almost a certainty She never had either, since most of the time, She chose to speak to Marisa through dreams. Of course, She was an Akuryou after all. They were probably all scared of light.

"You really shouldn't abuse those books like that. You'll tear the covers."

The girl could hardly hear Alice's mumbling from the other bed. Giving her a glance, Marisa decided now that she was done pondering Her, she'd ponder Alice for a change. Alice was one of her few good friends, as a fellow magician and as the child of one of Her friends as well. Anyone who was okay with Her was a friend to Marisa, because She knew everything you needed to know.

Alice was a frail girl, almost like Satori or Patchouli. Marisa didn't personally know why Alice was even here, as she seemed to be above average sanity-wise compared to the rest of them. Except for talking to her dolls more than people, Marisa found that there was nothing wrong with the girl. She was on some level of Holier-than-Thou because of her upbringing by such a woman, but feeling superior to everyone else was no reason to be put into a mental hospital.

Like she said, it was probably the dolls. Alice often spoke or concentrated on her dolls more than she did the same to real people. She'd been raised a proper magician by her mother, something Marisa wasn't allowed due to lack of materials. So she was "Species Magician" rather than "Occupational Magician". Another reason she was certainly Holier-than-Thou.

There was only one thing Marisa found interesting about Alice, and that was her Grimoire. Not even she could steal that book, and no one but Alice knew the contents of it because of that. Time and time again Marisa failed to read it… The most she had ever read was the golden printed "Grimoire of Alice" on the cover.

"Don't care. Hey, how about giving me all you own, Alice?"

"No."

"How about not giving me all you own?"

"Yes."

"Damn you."


	3. Chapter 3

((A/N: Okay it's midnight here but I've been listening to music and reading fanfics and UGH HERE HAVE ALL MY MUSE))

She could hardly keep her eyes open, but she willed herself otherwise.

_Why?_

The woman did not even care for time anymore. She never moved, never left, could never urge herself to even be seen. Her pencil ran along paper, black words being carved constantly into the white sheets. There was this urge, this _instinct_ she had to purge her soul of the words, all those words, to scar the paper with what she could no longer bear.

_Why, why, why, why…_

By now it was furious, tearing, ripping into the paper, staining it with ink. She made no attempt made to calm herself. She repeated the word over and over, mentally causing it to lose any semblance of meaning it still had. She didn't want it within her. She didn't want anything within her.

_Why was I born?_

Why why why was she born why must she die why did she even exist at all why wasn't she dead already why didn't she just kill herself why was she such a disappointment why was she-

She snapped the pencil in her hand and flung it at the stained wall.

Covering her ears did nothing. She knew that already, but she couldn't stop. She could feel her fingernails digging into her scalp as she tried to shut them up, tried and failed, why did she even try there was no reason to try they were always there they would always be there she couldn't ever escape-

She didn't want the words. They hurt. She wanted to go back to being nothing, the nothing she was supposed to be. She didn't want to listen to the tears rolling down her face. All she had ever wanted was to be _normal, _some vague semblance of it, maybe somewhere deep in her heart…

_I'm nothing, no one and not even worth caring about._

Still in pain, the female had regained only enough composure to grasp one more pencil and write in the line. Nothing. She'd never be known, never even be heard. Why was she born? Why should she die? If she was just going to be one more person, one more person who wasn't even worth supporting, what was she doing other than harm?

_I was born alone and I will die alone._

She'd never be worth anything. Never. All she was, and would ever be was just one more girl, one more lonely girl. One more lonely girl who would never amount to anything, never contribute anything, never even give meaning to her own life…

_All I've done in my life is harm._

All she would be was a waste of time, a waste of space, a waste of money that could be useful. She'd never amount to anything but one more girl, one more girl that they didn't trust, one more girl they had to put away. "For her own good" they said. "So you don't hurt yourself" they said.

It would be best for everyone if she had never existed.

_Some days, I wish I could be nothing too._

She didn't exist. She never had existed. That was what they had told her. But the girl didn't want that to be the truth. Because she did exist. Without her, Satori had no reason to be alive. Why live? Why not live? Why even exist at all? Why… Why was she alone?

_Why is it no one else can see?_

…Why did they say she was alone?

_I wish more people could understand that no one is always plural._

She wasn't alone. She never had been alone in the first place, see? Koishi was right here, right here with her. Satori was always with her sister. There was no reason to think she was ever alone. Koishi would always be by her side, wouldn't she? No one believed her. Why did no one believe her? She was her sister, Koishi. Yet, no one else ever even acknowledged her existence…

_Because it wasn't me who wrote on these walls._


End file.
